Quick On A Plane
by fartsinurface6
Summary: AU Quinn takes goes to New York to reinvent herself. She wakes up and finds a mohawked stranger sitting next to her. One shot.


Quinn Fabray sighed as she pushed herself against her seat as she made way for a slightly heavier male passenger. As he passed her with a heavy grunt, she could smell his strong scent of Old Spice and sweat. She scrunched her nose. She didn't mind the Old Spice smell but it mixed with sweat, something that didn't go well with Old Spice.

Quinn Fabray recently broke up with Sam Evans. After their nine month relationship, she broke things off because he had recently been into drugs and alcohol and had become abusive when he found out that got fired from his job, his mother's death and basically when his life reached a downward spiral. She tried reaching out to him and telling him to go to get some help but ended up not being helpful.

Two months after the breakup, she got a call one morning that she was being transferred to New York. She was a columnist and photographer for a small time magazine. She usually writes about the music scene about bands trying to claw their way up to the music industry. It wasn't the most glamourous job but it made her happy. She gladly took the New York trip and never looked back. It was a chance to get away from all the drama back home.

So as she sat on the aisle seat, she wondered who would sit next to her. She hoped it wasn't a perv. Or a creepy lesbian. Or someone fat. She already felt claustrophobic as it already was. She was also afraid of flying. Her palms were pretty sweaty and her heart was pound so hard against her chest as the seatbelt sign went on. Even when the plane was still on the runway, she didn't want to experience the takeoff. She hated takeoffs. Her stomach would plummet and she would get dizzy. She laid her head back against her seat and closed her eyes, reciting the rosary in her head.

And soon she dozed off.

Quinn's eyes fluttered open. She rubbed them slowly and stretched out a little. She was still on the damn plane. She could see the clouds outside the window. The food tray was open next to her where a half empty glass of scotch was. The seat next to her was inhabited by someone else. Someone brushed past her. He squeezed into the seat next to her and took a sip of scotch. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked out the window. Quinn saw the Mohawk carved on his head. Just another wannabe musician, she thought as she saw the bracelet made of a strand of leather with a metal guitar pick hanging from it. He probably does acoustic covers on Youtube with only a couple hits. She looked at her watch and sighed: five hours 'til touchdown in New York.

She looked away and tried to go back to sleep but her eyes were magnetically attached to the stranger next to her. There was something dangerous about him, that made her shiver when she thought about being alone with this mohawked guy. He seemed to sense that her eyes were on him and turned to look at her. _Wow, this guy is pretty good looking, _Quinn thought.

"Hey." He said. He seemed bored but his face lifted up a bit as soon as he saw how hot the girl was next to him.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She never talked to strangers before. "Hi."

He said. "You need anything?"

"Um…no. I just wanted to ask…" She stopped. There was one rule that applied to her at all times: never talk to strangers. But yet she was trying to make conversation. He waited.

"Ask if…are you a musician?" She blurted.

"If you call someone singing on the streets a musician then yes. I am."

"I'm sorry if I offended you…or anything." She quickly said, turning on her seat to face the movie that was playing but her eyes kept creeping back to the guy next to her.

"No, it's okay. I'm just between jobs at the moment." He said, sort of amused by her expression. "So where you from?"

"Lima." She said simply.

"Ohio, right? Not Lima, Peru?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know. I just thought that Lima's a pretty small place especially for a good looking girl like you."

"Really?" She added sarcasm. But despite that she went red.

"Really. So how'd you wind up there? Are you a paralegal there or something?"

"I grew up there. And I'm not a paralegal. I'm a columnist and a photographer for a small magazine company." With that he pulled out a crumpled up magazine from his bag stowed underneath his seat. It was titled _The Muckraker. _"Like this one?" He held it up.

Her heart pound. "Exactly like that one."

He smiled and she hated that she found it cute. "So you work for this magazine?" He eyed the magazine as he flipped through it.

"Yes, I do."

He stopped at a random page. "It's not very…"

"I know it's not very good but…"

"No. I'm not saying it's not good. I'm just saying that the title is sort of…inappropriate."

"We do it to attract attention." She defended.

"Well it certainly caught mine Quinn."

Her eyes widened. "How'd you know my name?" He casually pointed to her picture on the magazine. "Oh." Was all she said.

His eyes flickered from the magazine to Quinn and Quinn wondered what he was reading. "Interesting." He muttered. "What?" she said. He held up a full page spread of an underwear model. Quinn rolled her eyes. He laughed. Quinn raised her eyebrows, "What's so funny?"

"I'm just messing with you. I was actually looking at an article here about some local glee club."

"I wrote that article."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well to say the least it was boring."

"What would you know about writing an article?" Quinn challenged.

"I don't know how but I'm sure if I _did _write an article it would be better than this piece of shit."

Quinn was offended. She had spent years developing her writing skills and taking all the writing classes she could. She presented her work to numerous people and all of them thought it was brilliant. But this guy, the only person to ever say that it was boring. "Well, I'll let you know that you certainly have no…class. I'm a very efficient writer. Years of writing has proved that."

He laughed again. Suddenly five hours seemed like an eternity. "God, I'm just messing with you. Relax."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Wait. You're not one of those girls who get all pissed off when I don't flatter them or something."

"What makes you think I'm flattered by you?" Quinn said.

He just laughs. "I'm a charmer. It's what I do." He said confidently.

"And you're doing it so well." She said sarcastically just as a pretty stewardess passes them. The guy just shrugs. "Well, are you?" The guy takes a sip of scotch and continues, "You know, studies show that girls like you are attracted by badasses like me."

"And how is any of that accurate?" Quinn asked. He moved in closer. "I've been with girls like you. Blond, hot, all-business when it comes to relationships. And let me say that they all can't get enough of the Puckster." Quinn rolled her eyes again. Is she really going to put up with this asshole for five hours? And did he really say "Puckster". It sounded like a bad cartoon character. He was waiting for her witty response but there was nothing. "I know we just met but I was just curious. So why don't you tell me…" The guy was thinking of something. "Tell me. Tell me anything. Ask me. Ask me anything."

"About what?"

"Just ask."

"Why?"

"We got five hours to kill before we hit the Big Apple. The least we could do is talk about something sensible." He said, draining his drink. A flight attendant passed by and he said to the flight attendant, "Another please." The flight attendant whisked away the drink. Quinn thought about some effective topics. Food, work…life in general.

"What's your name?"

"Puck. Puck Puckerman. Nice to meet you." He said. Then it went silent again. "Oh come on. You can do better than that."

"But there's nothing to talk about."

"Okay. If there's nothing to talk about then why are we still talking?"

"I don't know. Why are you?"

"Because I'm bored. And maybe because I'm human. I talk don't I?I use my mouth for talking."

"I'm sure your mouth has other uses besides talking."

"Okay, like what?"

"Like eating, drinking…" And then she came up blank.

"Kissing?" He said, a playful smile on his lips.

"I know where this conversation is headed." The realization dawned on her.

He seemed puzzled. "What?"

"Kissing…you know…kissing leads to making-out, and making out usually leads to sex. You're trying to lure me into having sex with you."

"How?"

"I don't know but it's in that…it's in that area." Quinn said.

"Okay. Say that our conversation was about kissing. And…"

"And…kissing is a step closer to doing the…doing the deed in the airplane restroom."

"But sometimes on dates it's just kissing. No sex involved. Not even oral. Just…just a kiss."

"It's just a kiss?Nothing else? Well, it depends on what kind."

"There are kinds?"

"Of course there are." Quinn noted. "There's a simple peck on the cheek, there's that very sexual kind, there's romantic, there's passionate…"

"French. You forgot French." There was a small smile on Puck's face that Quinn really liked.

"French…" She uneasily added.

"So have you tried all of it?"

"All of what?"

"All the kisses."

"It depends on the person. There's gotta be that…"

"Spark?"

"Yes, spark."

"So have you experienced it yet? That kiss with that spark?"

"Um…" Her mind drifted back to Sam. They have kissed. A lot. She was sure there was a spark but now she wasn't. Maybe that spark was all in her head. "I'm not sure."

He raised his eyebrow. "You haven't yet?"

"And why does that surprise you?"

"I just figured that someone like you…you know, you haven't gotten that kiss yet. You're gorgeous, I'm not gonna lie. There's probably a million guys who would want to kiss you."

Quinn flushed. "I…I don't know. I'm not ready to be in a relationship just yet. I just got out of one right now…"

"Hey, I'm not talking about a relationship. We're in an airplane. Get real. I'm just simply saying that there are a lot of guys who would want to kiss you."

"Like who? The flight attendant?" She said, glancing at the bald male flight attendant, passing drinks to the other passengers. And just then, the flight attendant shot her a flirtatious glance and back at the passenger he was serving.

"Yes. Exactly like the flight attendant."

She chuckled. "So how about you? Have you experienced something like that?"

"Um, yeah. I think so."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"How? How would you know?"

"Because I'm usually the one to give them."

Quinn sort of admired his confidence although his recent comment about him being a good kisser was bordering on cocky. "I'm a great kisser and I can tell you are too." He continued, moving closer and stroking his finger lightly against her bare skin. She hated the way her heart pounded and it sent shivers down her spine. She lightly slapped it away. "And how would you know? You haven't even kissed me. Nor will I ever let you."

"I could tell. Plus, you're very attractive."

"I'm very flattered Puck but I told you that I'm not ready for another relationship."

"No, I get that. I get that, seriously. I'm just saying that I think you're very attractive." He said. Noah just looks at her and suddenly she's trapped in his gaze. He was so close that she could smell his scent. A mix of shaving cream, musky deodorant and a hint of scotch. She couldn't speak. This was a complete stranger. She didn't know him. She could feel the sexual tension between them. It was insane but she wasn't the kind of girl. She definitely wasn't the kind of girl. But yet this stranger was _very, very _good looking and _very, very _attractive although he was sort of cocky. "And I really want to kiss you right now." He said softly.

He leaned in and his lips met hers. But now that she got a taste of him she couldn't help but kiss him back. Her heart pounded harder in her chest. She had never felt like this when she kissed Sam. He was right. He was great. Better than Quinn would ever admit. She hated to admit that he was just someone she met on a plane and would never meet again. There was a small possibility that they would somehow meet each other in Central Park but that possibility was like wishing for rain on the dessert. Even though she had kissed plenty of guys, there was nothing. But if she did, this definitely what a kiss was supposed to be like. And there were definitely sparks. But did he feel it too?

She pulled away slowly even though she didn't want to. Her face went red, embarrassed. "I - I need to go to the restroom." She unbuckled her seatbelt and walked to the restroom. There were still butterflies in her stomach. Her mind was racing and her heart was still pounding. What was wrong with her? It was just a kiss. Nothing else. As she walked in the airplane restroom, she splashed cold water on her face, trying to clear her mind. She was still trying to gain some of her sanity but all she could think about was Puck.

Puck was just a guy she met on an airplane. She was pretty sure that she was never going to see him and his mohawk again. She stared at her reflection. She still looked flustered. She sighed. _Focus Fabray, focus. You just kissed a guy you met on an airplane. You're probably never gonna see him again. Never. _

It was sort of weird that she felt sort of sad that she was probably never going to see him again. New York was a big place and had about a population of 18 million. There was no way in hell that they would bump into each other. Besides, going to New York wasn't about meeting some guy and falling in love. No. This was about her. She recently even thought about writing a book. She reached out and opened the door.

There, standing in front of her was Puck. He looked shy, just standing there. Now the butterflies in her stomach were turning into moths. She stepped outside and their bodies brushed against each other. There was a spark of impulsiveness and she pushed him back inside the small cubicle. She closed the door behind her and pulled his face toward hers. She kissed him fiercely and passionately. He kissed her back equally and he pushed her lightly against the wall. His lips traveled down her neck. Her hands traveled under his shirt and over his bare chest. Puck grabbed the calf of her leg and wrapped it around his waist and pressed his body even harder against hers. If just a kiss from Puck could erupt sparks, now, there were fireworks.

"You taste so good." He whispered in her ear. Quinn shuddered. What was she doing? Was she willing to take it all the way? No. She wasn't ready. And doing it in an airplane restroom with someone she barely knew was not ideal. Although she wasn't ready, she didn't want to stop. But she had to. She pushed him away. "Puck. Stop."

He abruptly stopped. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I'm just not ready for this."

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have led you on with that kiss and…" He said, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry."

"No. Get real. I'm the one who should be sorry…I guess I'm sort of buzzed from the scotch huh?" He started. He looked so sad as he hung his head. "Well, if it makes you happy…you _are _a great kisser." His face lit up again. "But no spark huh?"

"No. I guess not." She lied. Puck led the way to their seats. She hoped that her lip gloss wasn't smeared or the fact that her hair was messed up didn't make people think that she had done it inside the airplane restroom. She plopped down and sighed. _Valentine's Day _was showing on the airplane. Julia Roberts and Bradley Cooper made a great looking couple. She sat in silence. Instead, she just let herself drift off. She opened her eyes again and they were twenty minutes away from New York. Twenty minutes away from her new life.

She looked at Puck, who was sleeping. She poked him in the ribs. He was immediately awake. "Puck?"

"Yeah?"

"When we land in New York, we're probably never gonna see each other again are we?"

He just shrugged. "Guess not."

"But, say if we were next to each other in a line at Starbucks, would you recognize me?"

"I don't know. Would you?"

"I…I don't know. But if we did…"

"I'd buy you coffee." He said with a smirk. "And maybe we could…catch up?"

"Sure."

"But if you're still available and I am too…we could…maybe we could give it a shot?"

"I…I guess so. Maybe." Then she paused. She wanted to maybe be in a relationship. In the future. "Yeah. Definitely." Smiling.

He smiled. "New York is a big place."

"It sure is."

"We're probably never going to bump into each other. But it was nice meeting you Quinn."

"Yeah. You too." Quinn couldn't help feeling sort of disappointment. She sort of wanted to see Puck again. But she knew he was right. The possibility that they were going to just randomly bump into each other on the street was just crazy. But still.

"You know, I don't know anyone in New York." She said. "And you're the only one I know that's going to be in the same area. Maybe you could show me around?"

"I'm really busy."

"But you said you were in between jobs."

Now his smile was a grin. "Then I'd love to show you around some time. You have an apartment?"

"Yes. Over at Queens."

"Great. Maybe I can stop by. Just text me your address and I'll come with my horse carriage."

"Seriously?"

"You haven't seen New York until you've seen it in a horse carriage."

Quinn smiled at the thought of her and Puck, riding around, laughing. Just the two of them and nobody would give a fuck because it was New York. It would be perfectly normal to see two people in a freaking horse carriage.

"Sure. I'd like that." After they exchanged numbers, they landed in the Big Apple. She couldn't think of anything else but her future ahead of her. But as she got off the terminal and hailed a cab, she couldn't help but think of Puck. Halfway to her new apartment in Queens, her cellphone vibrated.

It read: _One New Message _

She opened it, smiling.

_Hope we got on the right track. Can't wait to see you =) _

_Puck _

She's always been afraid of the future. But now as she reread his text she was now looking forward to it.


End file.
